You will be meeting January 27th, 2005 at 6PM GMT/8PM EET at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. The weather is set to be overcast, at a frigid 1°C, and you will be outdoors, so please dress accordingly!

Enclosed please find two portkeys -- one of which will become active thirty minutes before your date that will transport you to the site of your date, the other of which will become active forty-five minutes after your arrival at the site of your date.

Further instructions:

Hazmat equipment will be provided upon location. Please arrive 10 minutes early, and bring the attached waivers, signed, in triplicate.

Heather had only been out of St. Mungo's for a few months, and though she was making a real go of things, she still wasn't able to hold down a job. The potions she was taking to help her sleep were making it hard to be awake, and the ones she took for her overwhelming paranoia weren't exactly uppers. Still, life was starting to return to normal, or normal enough. That was, until she got the letter. She had never signed up for Madam Morgana's. And that's when the realization hit her, that she had, only it wasn't really her, now, was it? She had considered writing to let the matchmaker know it was some kind of mistake, but her therapist had told her that she needed to get out more. She was determined to be brave. She could do this.

She bundled up as best she could, signed all the wavers and put the portkeys into her pocket before she was whisked away.

Donald sat in his cabinet, the elegantly written letter in one hand, a quill in the other as he scratched the back of his head with the nib. Did he sign up for this? It didn't seem like something he'd do but at the same time he'd lived a good long while, it was quite possible he'd signed up to the Madam's services and forgot about it. "No, I don't have the time." He spoke to noone in particular as he placed the letter down on his desk.

He returned to his marking, scribbling away before, by happenstance he glanced up to note a picture of River, her blond curls framing a smiling face. He couldn't...could he? "Urgh, Fine. I suppose I'm magically bound to go anyway." He grumbled before getting up and throwing off his teaching robes, dressing in his preferred black velvet jacket with a red trim. Muggles did have a nice stock of clothing after all.

With everything signed Donald ended up being shot away by port key and deposited in none other than outside theblasted Romanian Dragon sanctuary. Despite his worldly travels, he'd never actaully managed to visit this spot. That alone brought a smile to his face. "At least this won't be a complete was-" It was then his eyes fell upon a woman holding a letter that looked very similar to his own.

Many emotions and reactions ran through the older man...the MUCH older man as he tried to think up some excuse or wished he was any good at face altering charms. But no. this was his lot....looking like a damn cradle robber.

"Hello there!" He shouted, Glaswegian accent thick and heavy as he waved the letter in the air. "I think you're my plus one."

She looked him over for a long time, and found him instantly not to her liking. Inwardly, though, she had enough of a clue to know she would feel that way about anybody who was standing in front of her, young, old, ugly or handsome. She wasn't really ready for everything a relationship entrailed anyway -- not even a platonic one. But she knew there was no harm in meeting people. Even if it was at the Dragon Sanctuary.

"Donald." he replied with a low voice that almost sounded like a sneer. First impressions, she was...female? Wow how long had it been? Don't answer that he knew exactly how long it'd been.

"So either you've got some daddy issues or I'm going through a late-life crisis, but dragons. That's something interesting, right?" He turned and gestured to the outside of the Sanctuary. Barring any accidents, this could turn out not half bad.

"I don't not like them." He replied as he decided to push this forward and walk towards the entrance. "I've encountered 2 in my life time. One in China and the other as a baby at the Ministry back when i was a pencil pushing twit." he gave a wide grin at that. "How about yourself? Any interests in fire breathing lizards?"

He came up to the enterence and held out the Morgan's letter, which seemed to let them both into the sanctuary, along with the hazmat suits waiting for them. "When they aren't devouring your sheep or burning down a School, I suppose so. Nervous?" He spoke with a smile, shimmying into a heavy warm suit that looked like it belonged to a Victorian diver.

Heather was clearly overwhelmed and trying not to go into autopilot. That would surely make this even more awkward than Donald was so obviously trying not to make it. She nodded as a employee helped her put on her own suit. She tried to keep her knees steady as she was touched. She hated being touched, but she was still TRYING. "So... uh..." she asked when she was suited. "What do you do for a living?" That was a thing people asked these days, right?

Something was bothering her. You didn't get to be as old and as good as he was without picking up on the physical cues of social anxiety. Or some of them at least. "Deep breaths, Dragons are going to be in enclosures, very little chance they'll break free and run riot." He said as one of the other atenddees made sure he'd placed the suit on properly. "I'm a teacher at Hogwarts. Ancient Studies. How about you?"

She nodded at his advice as if that was what really was bothering her. It was easier than the truth. She had never been to Hogwarts, but she knew it was famous... mostly for being a proverbial death trap. She wondered if he was used to doing dangerous things, but kept that question to herself.

"I'm... uh... I'm between jobs at the moment," she said with a nod. "But... I used to work for the ministry. I was a secretary."

"Well at least you've got free time." he spoke with a grin, securing the straps around his gloves before they were cleared to enter the Sanctuary. "A Ministerial Secretary, what department? I was there for a time before I was..removed." He spoke cryptically, rolling his R just for the fun of it.

Finally they were all set to move on a handy map showing just where the different types of dragons were housed and cared for.

Donald paused for a moment. "Assistant head of Magical accidents and catastrophes. Kind of went to shit in the first Wizarding War. I know I'm old." He didn't smile then, a brief flash of those dark times and all the pain that accursed time brought the man.

Donald paused with Heather next to the enclosure for the small Longhorn, even though small was a relative concept considering how it was getting far too big for it's home. "It's a sad state of events for Longhorns. Once they were wild and roaming all over Romania , Now they're endangered and undergoing a large breeding program thanks to Hunters wanting the beast's horns."

He spoke trying to sound clever and cultured when in actual fact he just read a placard he saw just off to the side. "So a secretary for the MLE. I can understand why you'd pack it in, I always found Auror's to be too trigger happy for my tastes."

She was impressed with his knowledge. She had no idea that he was reading. "Oh I didn't..." she began, but then realized she didn't really want to explain what she'd been up to for the last few years. "Yeah," she corrected. "It wasn't a very good job. The Ministry is overrated," she said, trying to win points. She imagined that he wasn't a big fan himself.